Talent
by idioticonion
Summary: Sue, Will and Bryan manipulate the situation for their own ends. Set during/after Season 1, Dream On. Warning, features m/m slash - Will and Bryan - in parts 2 and 3
1. Sue

**1. Sue**

"Hey Herb."

Sue leaned against the counter at Duncan's Dry Cleaning and smirked down at the fat, sweaty little man.

"Sue Sylvester!" Herb fawned, hurrying over to the counter. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

She sneered and cut right to the chase. Sue Sylvester didn't have time for small talk. "I heard you were casting for a local production of Les Mis."

His doughy face lit up immediately. A disgusting public show of pointless enthusiasm, she thought.

"Oh yeah, wow!" He grinned. "Can you believe it? We've already got our Jean Valjean and our Javert! These two guys came in yesterday and sang a duet, and the sheer chemistry alone... Well, when I think of those two singing the confrontation scene every night, I get chills-"

"Let me stop you there," Sue said calmly, Herb stuttered and swallowed nervously. "There's only so much talent in that so-called duet," she continued. "And that's all wrapped up in the perfect package commonly known as Will Schuester." The lie almost stuck in her throat but she powered on through.

Herb reached under the counter for a pad of notepaper, covered in crabby writing. "Which one is he?"

"The one with the _hair_," Sue sneered. "Looks like it stinks of garbage. You can't miss him."

Herb gave her a confused look. "But the other guy, the blonde guy, he's the one that hit all the top notes."

Sue allowed herself a thin smile. "Ah well, I think he might be a sneaky gay."

"A _sneaky_ gay?" Herb shook his head.

"Doesn't matter," Sue replied, rolling her eyes. Besides, no one who was that bad in bed is one hundred percent straight. She'd bet her signed copy of Material Girl on that. "Besides, I hear on the grapevine that he's a republican."

That brought a sneer to the fat man's face. "Really?"

Sue smiled. "Really." Gotcha!

Herb made a note on his pad and crossed something through. "Okay, I'll drop him from the cast and-"

"Oh no," Sue interrupted with a sugar-sweet smile. "Don't do that. Wouldn't want to alienate your star by kicking his lover- I mean, buddy- out of the show. Just give him a small part."

Herb looked totally out of his depth, flashing her a nervous, obsequious grin. "A speaking part?"

Sue laughed. She's seen the way Will looked at Bryan. "Just a few words." Oh, this was going to be _fun_.


	2. Will

**2. Will**

There are things Will puts down to nostalgia, or the remnants of drunken fantasy. There are things he's hidden for years, even from himself.

But standing in the bar with Bryan Ryan, even seeing him again after all this time, it brought out something of the fanboy in him. Even if Bryan's as bitter as a lemon and as mean as a snake, it doesn't matter. The guy was always something of a bully, always a little nasty.

In a way, that had only made his younger self worship the guy more.

Trouble is, Will had always been a nice kid, always tried to see the best in people even when it was hard to find, sometimes especially if it was hard to find. And the trouble with Bryan was, his personality defects aside, there was something about him that just shone. Sometimes Will wanted to be near his older schoolmate just to feel that heat, like some might rub off on him. He's never met anyone with such innate star quality, not even Rachel Barry.

Even now, as twisted around as Bryan had become, he practically glowed.

Will was determined to do something to help Bryan, not only to protect the Glee club, but also for more selfish reasons. You see, there had been an _incident_...

Will had been about sixteen, just before he hooked up with Terri. Bryan was about to graduate and leave McKinley and Ohio forever. There had been a party, one sultry spring night, and with Bryan's parents out of town, the booze had flowed freely.

He had gotten so, _so_ drunk.

And it's not like anything sordid had happened. But maybe that was worse, because what _had_ happened had made him a little confused for a long while, like a when you get a tiny stone in your sock. You could always feel it was there and could never really ignore it.

He still felt it flare in his gut when he looked at Bryan.

What Will remembered of that night was blurred. He remembered some shouting, and a punch being thrown, and being dragged from the garden into the house and thrown down on a bed, his wrists pinned as he struggled to get up. He remembered opening his eyes and looking up.

In the present, Will shook himself and looked away from Bryan towards the juke box. Those eyes - chips of blue ice - and that long column of his throat. You could get caught up Bryan Ryan, sucked in to his gravitational pull. Will was hyper-conscious that he'd been staring at him.

He could help it. Bryan glowed, even now.

So many years ago at that party, when Bryan had pinned him to the bed, when Will's face had raged with pain from the punch he'd taken, he'd thought for a moment, just a tiny fraction of a second, that Bryan was going to move closer, press his mouth into his. He'd thought, in that confusion of adrenalin and booze and anger, that Bryan was going to kiss him.

Will was almost disappointed when he didn't.

It was the only time in his life when his sexuality had been tilted off balance. He'd tried to put the whole thing out of his mind because he'd never actually been attracted to another man. But seeing Bryan again...

It wasn't about being gay or whatever. It was just that Bryan was way too magnetic to ignore. It definitely wasn't about being gay.

No matter what secret masturbatory fantasies he might still entertain about that night.

It broke Will's heart to see what Bryan had become. And there was no way he couldn't step up to the plate and help him.


	3. Bryan

**3. Bryan**

It wasn't Sue that turned him on.

The duet with Will, well, it made him feel more like a gunslinger than a singer. It got his engines revving in more ways than one. And Sue Sylvester was there, and she had this vibe that told him that she wouldn't mind it a little rough.

It wasn't cheating on Wilma _as such_. It was more about relieving the tension.

It had always been like this with Will.

Bryan liked to think of himself as a little mischievous. A maverick. Just bad enough so as not to be boring. And yes, he'd tease people. He was no goody-goody. In fact, do-gooders often brought out the worst in him.

Sometimes he could see himself, being mean, but he couldn't seem to stop.

Being in the limelight, being the centre of attention, it was kind of all he lived for. Be it good or bad attention. When he'd had a brief taste of that, he'd wanted more. Drugs had blotted out the hollow ache of failure.

Other things too. Sex, and not always of the vanilla kind. As a performer, as an actor, you had to be a little flexible in your sexuality. As an addict, even more.

The things he'd done. He wasn't proud.

But that was all before he'd met Wilma, and he's gotten beyond that. So, so far beyond.

But now here was Will Schuester, dragging Ryan back, full circle, to a time before the drugs, before he lost himself, before he gave up his dignity, his hope, his soul. Here was Will, prodding the tiger.

And here he was, Bryan Ryan, and all he wanted to do was roar.

The next night, they found themselves back at the bar, downing beer then shots like there was no tomorrow.

"You've got so much talent," Will said, wiping his mouth with a hiccup. "It's a little scary."

Will always did that - gave him that starry-eyed look, got a little too far into his personal space. They were both drunk enough to be numb to convention, but not drunk enough to miss the unresolved tension between them. It was palpable; the air crackled with it.

There was an elephant in the bar, and it had Will's lips, his eyes, his goofy smile.

Bryan Ryan had done many things he wasn't proud of. But leaning forward and digging his fingers into Will's hair, pulling his mouth towards him for a hungry, angry kiss, that probably topped everything else. Some part of him was aware of what he was risking - a friendship renewed, a hope rekindled, but he couldn't help himself.

Maybe he was more damaged than even he knew.

Will jerked away, almost violently. Not far away, just breaking the kiss really. "What the-?" He choked, knocking his elbow into his glass of scotch. But there was more confusion in his eyes than outrage, and even a tale-tell spark of lust.

Or was the that drink talking?

"What the hell are you doing?" Will demanded, his voice shaking. Bryan could feel the weight of Will's hand on his shoulder, his warm breath on his cheek and he reached out, running the back of his hand across Will's knee.

"I'm kissing you, you idiot," Bryan said, and did it again. Firmly, deliberately, giving no quarter.

This time, Will didn't pull away.

Bryan pressed his luck for as long as he felt he could get away with, until he heard a rumbled comment from the old guy nursing his G&T at the end of the bar. Then he broke the kiss, panting slightly. "I've wanted to do that for years," he said gruffly.

"Really?" Will asked, this time pulling right away from him and absently wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The other man laughed nervously.

"Duh." Bryan said with a sarcastic grin. "So, Schuester. You, me? Your place?"

Will stuttered, swallowed the last of his scotch, and looked like he was thinking it over.

"Seriously?" Bryan hissed with irritation. "You're gonna turn me down?"

Will shook his head. Bryan decided to take that as a green light.

*-*-*

Will's place was much like Bryan imagined - full of feminine touches, presumably from his ex-wife, but also with a touch of bachelor chaos. He followed Will inside the apartment with a smirk, grabbing him from behind and digging his fingers into his waist.

Will wrenched himself around in his grip, all hostility and focus - hot and determined. When Will leaned in, the kiss was hard and open-mouthed. Now they were standing, Bryan could feel the weight and strength of his body, the flex of bicep beneath his fingers. Their teeth clashed in the battle for dominance, and when they came up for air, it was by no means certain who the winner was.

So Bryan slid his fingers carefully under Will's vest, sliding it off his shoulders. It would take Will longer to negotiate his jacket than it was for Bryan to get under the cotton of his tshirt, but Will was playing dirty, pulling their hips flush together do that Bryan was suddenly conscious of the swell of denim pressing against his groin. With a grunt of impatience, Will yanked the jacket down his back, tangling Bryan's arms behind him as Will's mouth crashed into his again, hot, wet and hungry.

Somehow zippers were yanked down and pieces of clothing fell to the floor. There was the occasional ripping sound which Bryan ignored as best he could.

He ached, helplessly, from balls to brain. He needed this, viscerally, with a passion that he hadn't felt outside of the stage. Will pushed him up against the wall and held him there, lips fastening on his throat and sucking at the flesh while Bryan fumbled between them, finding and gripping their twin erections. That got Will's attention and the other man looked up at him, startled, running his thumb across Bryan's neck.

"Did you just give me a hickey?" Bryan laughed out loud, then looked down between them, both hands moving, fast then slow, varying pressure and friction until Will's eyes were saucer wide.

"Jesus!" The word exploded from Will's lips but Bryan knew that neither of them were quite there yet. He could see Will grit his teeth, work his jaw - even now it was still a competition.

Maybe neither of them would win? Maybe a tie was good enough.

And then something caught inside him, something that made him come, fast and hard, and a curse was ready in his throat when he felt the twin pulse and the warm sticky mess cover his hand and belly.

He grinned as he pulled away.

"So, you're really not gonna cut Glee club?" Will asked, looking more than a little stunned.

"Of course not. I promise." Bryan said earnestly. And he was surprised to discover that he meant it.


End file.
